


oh no richie! don't look at my ass! i'm so embarrassed!

by bebe8s



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Eddie Kaspbrak is Bad at Feelings, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Tease, Eventual Smut, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Post-Canon, Richie Tozier is Bad at Feelings, Slutty Eddie Kaspbrak, kinda? more like no communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bebe8s/pseuds/bebe8s
Summary: Objectively, the sight of someone shaking a pan of vegetables should not turn him on so much, but virtually anything Richie does has the ability to turn Eddie on at this point. And so, right there in the kitchen, he resolves to do something. He doesn't know what yet, but he's got to do something.or, Eddie comes up with increasingly absurd ways to get Richie to look at his ass.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 28
Kudos: 234





	1. what if i show you my ass and we're both gay

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by em who was inspired by [this tiktok.](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeMm9PAE/) thank u for letting me steal this prompt and run with it <3

Okay, sure. Maybe Eddie was going a little crazy. It's just, he's been living with Richie for six months now, and nothing has happened. He was sure that after all the clown shit was over that Richie would tell him how he felt. It's not a coincidence that Eddie's first conscious words after being turned into a clown kebab were, "I'm gay." But the moment came and passed and nothing happened. And then Eddie moved out to L.A. to live with Richie, and nothing happened. And then Richie came out as gay, and still nothing happened. 

And yeah, maybe  _ Eddie _ should just suck it up and tell him himself, but as sure as he is that Richie might feel the same way, he's even more sure that Richie would rather work a desk job at a travel insurance company than hold his hand.

So now it's been six months, and no one's said anything, and Eddie's resigned to living with the misery and horniness and self-doubt forever. That makes it sound worse than it is - Eddie loves living with Richie. He really does! Their lives just  _ fit.  _ Richie makes him laugh, and takes care of him, and is surprisingly competent for a man child. And he's only slightly losing his mind at how broad Richie is, or how he looks when he gets out of the shower and is just wearing a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, or, god forbid, how he looks when he's wearing sweatpants. 

But then one day Eddie's sounding like an idiot on the phone with Bev because he's doing his weekly complaining about Richie being hot and irresistible and impossible not to love, and then Bev stops him. 

"Okay, babe, you know you I love you, but you have got to chill out. I  _ promise  _ that telling Richie how you feel is not going to end the world."

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll just go up to him and say, 'Hey, Rich! I know we live together and are platonic best friends but actually I want you to blow my back out and also maybe take me out on a date!' That sounds like a totally reasonable plan that could not backfire in any possible way."

He can hear Bev's eye roll through the phone. "You suck. If you're not going to  _ tell  _ him, then why don't you just find a way to  _ show  _ him?"

"Yeah, next time he's sitting on the couch I'll just start sucking his dick and seeing if he gets the hint."

"I actually hate you and don't care what happens anymore. I'm going to go hang out with Ben and have an adult relationship where both of us talk about our feelings openly with each other because we are intelligent, sentient human beings." Eddie manages to squeeze in a goodbye before Bev hangs up.

Later that night, when he's watching Richie cook dinner, he thinks about what Bev said again. He watches Richie shake the vegetables he's cooking in the pan and it makes his mouth water (and not because the vegetables look so good). Objectively, the sight of someone shaking a pan of vegetables should not turn him on so much, but virtually anything Richie does has the ability to turn Eddie on at this point. And so, right there in the kitchen, he resolves to do something. He doesn't know what yet, but he's got to do _something_.

* * *

Eddie doesn't really think about his decision for the rest of the week. Work picks up and he doesn't have time to actively thirst over Richie  _ and  _ figure out how to get him in bed, so he goes with what's most familiar and just yearns.

Then it's the weekend and he's running his Saturday errands before Richie's even up, so he's still not really thinking about it. He's at Lululemon because even though he hates the fact that he is the kind of person to walk into a Lululemon while living in L.A. before going to fucking Trader Joe's with his goddamn reusable shopping bags, that's what his life is. 

He just needs some new workout clothes since it's getting closer to summer and he doesn't have anything airy enough for the California heat. He's staring at the price tag on some ridiculously short shorts, and he pauses. Eddie knows he's in good shape, and that his ass would look  _ fucking great  _ in these shorts; even if Richie isn't into Eddie, he's still  _ gay _ . So he finds his size and picks two different colors to buy. On his way to the checkout counter, he grabs a pair of running leggings before heading to pay. 

He doesn't really know how he's going to get Richie to look at him in the shorts, because he's noticed how Richie tries to avert his gaze anytime Eddie comes back from running. He wishes he wouldn't. He wishes Richie would see him in his sweaty running clothes and tear them off and make Eddie see stars.

But then he's off to Trader Joe's, so he has to stop thinking about seducing Richie long enough to do some effective grocery shopping.

When he gets home from his errands, Richie is on the couch with his laptop. 

"Spaghetti! How were your suburban housewife errands this morning?"

"Shut up, dickhead. They were good. I got a new kind of salsa that I think you'll like. Come help me put away the groceries or I'm taking it back."

Richie springs up from the couch and joins Eddie in the kitchen, and Eddie does a double take. Richie looks  _ good _ . And he's not even trying, that asshole. He's just wearing a threadbare T-shirt with holes in it and an old pair of sweats with paint stains on them, but Eddie wants to climb him like a goddamn tree. He swallows down his horny thoughts and deflects, because that's what he does best.

"Do you ever buy new clothes, or does everything you own look like you stole it from the dump?"

"Oh, fuck you! It's the weekend and I like to be comfortable. Am I not sexy enough in my holey shirt and stained sweats, Eds?"

Richie turns to Eddie expectantly, and Eddie thinks  _ You actually are and that's the problem _ . 

But he says, "I don't think anyone in this universe has ever referred to you as sexy."

"You wound me, Eds. I hope you know a cardiologist because my heart is broken and needs healing."

"Oh my god, shut up. You are so unbearable."

They're quiet for a moment, maneuvering around each other and putting away the groceries, but then Eddie's mouth randomly decides to speak and says, "I bought new running shorts today and I'm not sure if they're too short. If I tried them on, would you be honest?"

Eddie doesn't know where it came from or why he said it, but Richie hums affirmatively, so he retreats to his room to change while Richie puts up the last of the frozen food. Before leaving his room, Eddie catches a glance of himself in the mirror. He was right, his ass does look  _ fucking great  _ in these shorts. These shorts that are definitely too short for Eddie Kaspbrak, a 40 year old divorcee, to wear in public. But the thing is, he knows he didn't really care about if he would wear them outside. It's all about wearing them  _ inside _ .

Slipping back into the kitchen, he doesn't miss the sharp inhale from Richie's mouth. Eddie stands there, holding his arms out and asking, "So? Too short?" He punctuates it by turning around and looking over his shoulder at Richie. He could almost swear that Richie's pupils were blown, but he's sure he's seeing things. 

Richie clears his throat before saying, "Uh, they, uh, they look great, Eds. I just remembered I have to go do something in - in my room, so I'll be back out later. Bye!"

And then Richie is shutting the door to his room and Eddie is standing in the kitchen wearing the sluttiest shorts he owns and wondering why Richie just  _ left _ . 

* * *

Eddie knows his plan is absolutely batshit insane. But he's also desperate and he's sitting here watching through the glass sliding doors while Richie dicks around as he cleans the pool outside, and he thinks back to every porno ever where some guy is cleaning the pool and some housewife seduces him, and then before he can stop himself, he's changing into his bathing suit. 

He chooses his Tommy Hilfiger bottoms because they're pretty short and he's like 87% sure he once saw Richie's eyes linger when he was wearing them before. Looking in the mirror, Eddie takes a second to make sure his ass looks good, because at this point he's past pretending he's not trying to get Richie to look there. He might as well own up to the fact that he's being a bit of a whore. 

It's not his fault, though! Richie is out there cleaning the pool with his broad fucking shoulders and massive hands and Eddie just wants to lick every inch of his body. And yeah, he also wants to do dumb domestic shit like hold his hand and cook him breakfast in bed or whatever, but it's easier to focus on being horny. If he does that, he doesn't have to acknowledge his pathetically deep feelings for his best friend slash roommate. 

Eddie steels himself one last time before leaving his room. On his way out, he grabs a bottle of sunscreen because he's not a monster with no regard for his skin health.

When he gets outside, Richie is wading waist deep in the pool. He looks like he's focusing on something, but Eddie doesn't know anything about keeping up with the pool, so he doesn't really know what exactly Richie would be focusing on. Regardless, Eddie slides open the glass door and steps out into the heat. Hearing him step outside, Richie turns around and grins.

"Eddie Spaghetti! Long time no see!"

"What the fuck are you talking about? We saw each other like forty minutes ago."

"Yeah, and those forty minutes without you have been  _ torture _ ," Richie exaggerates. Eddie rolls his eyes and sits down on one of the poolside chairs to start applying his sunscreen. He's trying very hard to focus on rubbing the lotion into his skin and  _ not  _ on Richie's back muscles, but it's not easy; they're out in the open, obscenely tempting and irresistible. The nerve of this guy.

But looking at Richie's back gives Eddie an idea. 

"Hey, Richie, can you help me with something?" 

Richie looks up at him and hums affirmatively, so Eddie continues. "Could you help me get my back? I don't want to burn but I can't really reach around like that since I was stabbed by an alien clown and all."

Eddie knows it's unfair of him to play that card. He knows that Richie would have probably agreed to do it even without the guilt factor that Eddie is inconsiderately using. But he also knows he wasn't willing to risk him saying no, so he decides it was necessary.

Richie wastes no time wading out of the pool and walking over to Eddie, who is already holding out the sunblock. Richie grabs it from his hand, and Eddie lays down so that Richie can have access to his back. He probably could have stayed sitting up and just turned around, but then Richie wouldn't be able to see his ass, and that's most of the reason he's out here.

Richie clears his throat as he pops open the sunblock, and if Eddie  _ really  _ hated himself, he would let himself imagine that Richie was popping open some lube. But he's not that much of a masochist, so for now he doesn't let his mind stray there.

When Richie's hands make first contact with his skin, Eddie's entire body lights up like a match. Richie starts rubbing the lotion into his skin, and Eddie bites back a moan. Sure, he's trying to be obvious, but not  _ that  _ obvious. 

It's blissful, laying there with Richie's hands all over his body. It's easy to get lost in the feeling of the rough skin of Richie's hands rubbing over his muscles. Richie drags his hands down Eddie's spine and, despite the heat, Eddie gets goosebumps. He knows Richie's almost done, but he's not ready to give this up, so he takes another desperate step.

"Could you get just under the waistband of my shorts in the back? Just in case they ride down once they get wet. And also maybe just under the hem, too, for the same reason." God, he really is a shameless whore.

He hears Richie swallow before he answers, saying, "Uh, yeah, of course. Anything for my spaghetti."

And then Richie's hands dip just below the waistband of Eddie's shorts, and it's an intoxicating feeling that he wants to feel again and again and again. He almost wishes Richie would let his hands wander a little further and outright just grab his ass, but he knows Richie would never do that. He's too polite.

When Richie's hands ghost under the hem of Eddie's shorts, Eddie sucks in a sharp breath of air. His hands are  _ so  _ close to where Eddie wants them. But Richie just slathers some sunscreen on and stops.

Eddie misses Richie's touch the second it leaves his skin.

"I think you're all set dude," Richie says, and before Eddie can even sit all the way up, Richie's already wading back into the pool. 

"Thanks, man," Eddie says, and he hopes his arousal isn't written all over his face. Or maybe he hopes it  _ is  _ written all over his face. He doesn't really know what he's doing at this point.

They've barely settled into the silence when Richie asks, "You gonna come swim or just sit there like a little bitch boy?"

Eddie wastes no time in flicking Richie off, but he gets up from his chair and makes his way to the pool anyway. He sits on the edge, dangling his feet in the water, and Richie comes closer to him. He stops just short of stepping in between Eddie's legs, and all of a sudden Eddie  _ really  _ wants to kiss him. Well, maybe not all of a sudden, because he pretty much always wants to kiss him. But it's stronger right now, and he has to actively fight to stop himself from reaching out for Richie's shoulders. 

Richie has a little bit of scruff lining his jaw, and that's just making things worse for Eddie. He wants to feel that along his skin, how it would be scratchy and sharp in the best way. Eddie feels a little pathetic, having such a huge crush on his best friend like this. It feels like he's a middle schooler. Of course, when he actually was in middle school, he was busy pretending that these feelings didn't mean anything and shoving them down. So, maybe it's his turn to have his middle school crush. He never let himself have it before.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Eds?" Richie asks, shaking Eddie from his thoughts.

_ Kissing you _ .

"Oh, just work stuff," Eddie lies. Richie sighs and says, "Dude, it's Sunday. You don't have to think about work stuff until tomorrow, so cut it out. Let's watch a movie tonight, order some food in. Get you out of that little spaghetti head of yours for a minute." 

"Okay, yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Yeah."

"Now are you gonna come swim with me or not?" Richie asks. 

"I don't want to get wet."

"But you already are," Richie answers so casually. Eddie should have seen what was coming next, because it's textbook Richie, but his brain is cloudy so he simply doesn't.

"No I'm not-" Eddie can't even finish his sentence before Richie is sliding his arm across the surface of the water and bringing a huge wave splashing against Eddie's skin.

"Oh, fuck you, man!" Eddie says, but there's not a whole lot of heat behind it. 

"Guess you gotta get all the way in now!" Richie laughs as he leans back to float on his back. Eddie watches him for a moment and then decides to suck it up and just swim. He slides into the water, moving silently towards where Richie is floating on his back. When he's close enough, he sends a sizable splash Richie's way, soaking his upper chest and face. Richie sputters before righting himself, and Eddie can see the water droplets lining his glasses from Eddie's retaliation.

Of course, Richie splashes him back, and before long they've gotten themselves into a full on splash war. It's fun, goofing off with Richie in the pool like they're kids. It feels so natural. They're hurling water and insults at each other at rapid speed, and Eddie's never been so content.

Eventually, they both get tired of their pruning skin and decide to head inside. Eddie heads off to shower, and Richie just goes to change clothes because he's a heathen with no hygiene.

As Eddie stands in the bathroom peeling his clothes off, he thinks back to the afternoon and to yesterday. He's given Richie two relatively obvious situations, and he's done nothing. The rational part of Eddie's brain is telling him to give it up, that Richie's not interested in him that way. But the horny part is telling him to keep going, to get more bold, to make it perfectly clear what he wants. 

Stepping under the water, Eddie lets the warm stream drip down his chest. He thinks back to how good Richie looked, just standing outside with his shoulders out. And how his hands felt against Eddie's skin, how  _ close  _ they were to where Eddie really wanted them. The thought alone is enough to get him hard, so he wraps his fist around his cock and starts stroking. It doesn't take him long to finish, not with the memory of Richie's hands on his body. 

He shifts his focus to actually washing himself once he finishes, mindlessly rubbing his body wash into his skin. He briefly wishes Richie was here to rub this in too, like he did with the sunscreen, but he literally  _ just  _ came, so he can't really focus on that right now. He forces his brain to think of something else,  _ anything  _ else.

It's not long before he cuts off the water, wrapping his towel around his waist and slipping away into his room. Eddie absentmindedly grabs a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt (that just so happens to be Richie's), and after thinking for a moment, decides to forgo his boxers. His shorts are basically sweatpants, just in short form, so without the underwear, there won't be much left to the imagination. 

Maybe Richie will see him, realize he's sitting right next to Eddie without any underwear, and just. Rail him. Easy access, after all. That probably won't happen, but a man can dream.

He runs his towel through his hair one last time before stepping back out into the hall, making a brief pit stop in the bathroom to hang his towel up before heading to the living room. Richie's scrolling on his phone, and when Eddie walks in, he starts speaking without looking up.

"So, I was thinking we could get Thai? That place you-" Richie looks up and stops talking for a moment. It feels like his eyes are burning into Eddie's skin. Maybe it's finally working.

But then, as if nothing happened at all, Richie continues. "Uh, that place you like is on Uber Eats and all, so we could place an order and just have them deliver it."

Eddie plops down on the couch, and maybe he's a tiny bit closer to Richie than he needs to be. He leans into Richie, looking over at his phone screen, and hums affirmatively.

"Yeah, that sounds good with me. You know what I like so you can just go ahead and order. What movie were you in the mood for?"

"Oh, I've got the perfect one. You know how you revealed the other day that you're like, so fucking weird and haven't seen  _ The Matrix _ ? Well, it's on HBO Max right now. Let's get some young Keanu Reeves going up in here." Richie has a ridiculous grin on his face, so Eddie decides to just go with it. 

"Okay, fine, whatever. Sounds good to me. I'm gonna go grab a glass of water. Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah, water's fine," Richie answers, already redirecting his attention to his phone screen to order food. By the time Eddie gets back, two glasses of water in hand, Richie has already placed the order and queued up  _ The Matrix  _ on the TV. 

"Alright, Spaghetti, get ready. Ha, that rhymes! It's hard work being hilarious all the time. Anyway, get ready for a masterpiece.  _ The Matrix  _ walks the line of being completely brilliant and completely dumb as shit so flawlessly."

Richie starts the movie, and before long, Eddie is lost in the world of  _ The Matrix _ . He has to admit, Richie was right. It really does walk the line of greatness and absolute shit without actually crossing over and becoming a bad movie. 

When the food arrives, Richie gets up without pausing the movie and goes to grab the food from the front door. He gets back and distributes the food, and they eat in semi-silence while watching. Of course, they can never be  _ completely  _ silent while watching a movie. They both have very many things to say, mainly Eddie criticizing things, and Richie providing insanely specific facts about the movie or giving the characters their own internal monologues. 

"If I was Lawrence Fishburne, I would refuse to do any movies without those epic glasses," Richie says in between bites of his shrimp Pad Thai. Eddie barks a laugh, saying, "You would look so fucking stupid in those. I would like to see it."

"Honestly, I could be Neo but with a dad bod. I've got the whole unexpectedly handsome thing going for me already. Maybe they'll replace Keanu Reeves with me in the new one they're making."

"Wait, they're making another one? Aren't there already three?"

"Yeah, but we're in the age of reboots, baby. Keanu Reeves and Carrie-Anne Moss are alive and well, so it's only common sense that they make a new one."

"Well, you better get your agent working on that. If you're not in the next one, I'm going to be massively disappointed," Eddie laughs out.

"I could always be Keanu's stunt double. I mean, there are exactly zero differences between our physiques."

"You're on a first name basis with Keanu Reeves now?"

"Of course! We're two extremely sexy, extremely successful Hollywood actors. We're practically the best of friends. The only person more important to me than Keanu is you, Eds."

Eddie's heart flutters at that. It was hidden in a joke, but it was still there. He sounded sincere. At least he gets Richie like this. While he'd much rather have Richie bending him over the arm of the couch and pounding him into next week, he supposes this is good, too.

"Oh, and your mom," Richie adds, and Eddie flicks him off. "Fuck you! That was almost a nice thing for you to say, you had to go ruin it with your dumbass jokes that aren't even funny."

"You'd want nothing less, baby."

_ Baby. _ Oh.

"Oh, shut up. This part is really good. Mr. Reeves kills it with the fight choreo here," Richie says excitedly, leaning towards the screen and giving Eddie a perfect view of his profile. Eddie has to tear his eyes away from Richie's jawline to watch the movie. He's so engrossed in the fight scene that he doesn't notice Richie sneaking his chopsticks into his bowl of chicken Pad Thai, but when he does, he groans.

"Richie! Stop stealing my food! You know I would let you have a bite if you just  _ asked _ ."

"But this is way more fun," Richie says, going back in for more. Before he can actually get some noodles, Eddie grabs his chopsticks and throws them over the arm of the couch in retaliation.

"Hey! That wasn't very nice!" Richie complains, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler.

"Oh, suck it up. You did this to yourself, buddy."

"I absolutely did not! Since you were so mean, I think you should go retrieve my chopsticks for me."

Eddie rolls his eyes and is about to say no when an idea pops into his head. Albeit, it's a stupid idea, but it's an idea nonetheless.

"Fine, idiot," Eddie snaps back, before leaning over the arm of the couch. His ass is fully in the air as he pitches himself forward to grab the chopsticks off the floor. He takes a little longer than he needs to, wiggling his hips a little for "balance," before popping back up. When he turns around, Richie's cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wide. 

"Your chopsticks, asshole."

Richie shakes his head and blinks, almost like a cartoon, before reaching out and grabbing the chopsticks from Eddie's hands. His eyes are a little glazed over, and Eddie thinks for a second that maybe he's going to make a move. 

But then the moment ends when Richie sticks his chopsticks in his mouth like a walrus.

"Fank you, Eddie," Richie struggles to say.

"That's disgusting. Those were just on the floor. At least rinse them off before using them."

"It just adds to the flavor." Richie waggles his eyebrows when Eddie scrunches his face up. 

And then they're both back to watching the movie, and another opportunity has come and gone. Eddie doesn't know how much more obvious he can be at this point. He was quite literally shaking his ass in the air minutes ago, and Richie did nothing. 

He could probably end this all by just  _ talking  _ to him, but that is far too vulnerable. At least now, if Richie says something, he has plausible deniability. He can always just say he's horny and wants to get laid, pull out the  _ We're both gay!  _ reasoning. But if he actually were to  _ talk  _ to Richie, he would probably have to come clean about the whole domestic fantasy side of this shit, and he's much too stubborn for that. It's a lot easier to wear tight shorts instead of, like, putting his feelings out there in the open.

So instead, Eddie resolves to find a way to be more obvious. He's not sure how he's going to do that, short of taking off his pants and asking Richie to straight up just look at his hole, but he'll find a way. At this point, he's willing to sacrifice his pride if it means Richie might finally blow his back out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! this entire thing is written and im gonna post the next two chapters over the next two days, so this is gonna be complete by tuesday!
> 
> thank u to migz and jamie and the entire vibecord for being sexy and supportive


	2. is it gay if my roommate takes off his pants in the kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie was pretty sure he was losing his goddamn mind. If he has to look at Eddie's ass one more time, he's going to have to check himself into sex rehab. 

Richie was pretty sure he was losing his goddamn mind. Truthfully, he'd been losing his mind for six months now, what with living with Eddie and all. He'd see Eddie without a shirt or in his running clothes or pajamas and every single time his mouth would water and he'd feel like a creep. But he had found a way to deal with that; he'd just avert his eyes as much as possible to avoid leering at his best friend. 

But even with that, it seems that recently Eddie has almost been…  _ trying _ to get Richie to look. He knows that's just wishful thinking. Eddie is probably just becoming more comfortable in his skin. But if Richie has to look at Eddie's ass one more time, he's going to have to check himself into sex rehab. 

He's surprised his dick hasn't chafed off with how much he's been jerking it. 

It's been three weeks of Eddie seemingly showing his ass off more than usual. Richie hasn't said anything because he figures the only reason he's noticing this at all is because he looks at Eddie's ass so much anyway. But the simple fact is that Richie's brain is  _ very  _ close to completely melting and dripping out of his ears.

It's a Wednesday evening and Richie is sitting on the couch staring at an unedited document on his computer. He's been trying to write more material for hours now, but he hasn't gotten anything out. Luckily, Eddie should be home soon anyway and that will give him an excuse to shut his laptop and direct his attention elsewhere.

Like clockwork, Eddie walks through the door at 5:47 PM. His office isn't too far from their place, but with the Los Angeles traffic, it turns into a solid forty five minute commute. 

"Spagheds! Glad you're home so I can stop pretending that I'm trying to do work," Richie says as he shuts his laptop.

"How long have you been waiting to have an excuse to stop? I feel like you've definitely been sitting there all day just waiting for the minute you could stop not doing anything."

"You might be correct, but I'll never tell."

"How do you ever get hired?"

"Probably because of my wicked good looks and extreme sex appeal."

"It's definitely not that. I'm gonna go change real quick, I'll be right back," Eddie calls over his shoulder as he heads down the hallway. Frankly, Richie is glad he's changing because Eddie in his little business casual attire seems to have been designed specifically to target the horny section of Richie. Eddie in  _ anything  _ targets the horny section of his brain, really, but the business casual attire is just worse somehow.

"Okay, Richie. Fun fact - actually really, really sad fact: my nice boxers have ripped at the seam," Eddie says as he walks back into the room. Richie is finishing up a text to Mike when he starts speaking, "Damn, Eds! Ass too fat for-"

His voice dies in his throat when he looks up to see Eddie in just his boxers, turned away from Richie and showing him the hole in his underwear that is  _ very  _ close to another hole that, if Richie was ever to see, he would never be able to get it out of his mind.

"Jesus, Eddie. I was not expecting to look up and see your entire ass out in the living room on a Wednesday evening," Richie says, trying to sound casual. His voice definitely comes out more strained than he means.

"My bad, would this conversation be better on a Thursday afternoon?"

"Yeah, that works better for my calendar, actually."

"Shut up, I was just trying to show you where these ripped."

"Easy access, huh? Advertise that shit on Grindr," Richie jokes, but the joke falls flat because he doesn't really want to think about Eddie on Grindr.

"Ew, I'm not downloading Grindr. I'm advertising this shit right fucking now and that's it," Eddie answers.

"Ha, nice. Guess you are," Richie says. His throat feels very dry. "I'm going to, uh, grab a glass of water."

Eddie watches while Richie scurries off to the kitchen, trying to remember how to breathe like a normal human being. He pours a glass of water and chugs it, then refills it and takes a deep breath before returning to the living room. Eddie seems to have gone back to his room, hopefully to put on pants. Richie was fourteen seconds from jumping his bones right here and now. Or, at least, from monumentally embarrassing himself in front of the love of his life that he wants to do gay things with and all that.

* * *

The next incident happens Saturday afternoon. Richie was just getting back from brunch with some producers that he was trying to schmooze, and he was excited to tell Eddie about how it went. He opened the front door to their place and walked in, ready to shout something annoying to get Eddie's attention. He did not end up shouting anything.

Right there, in his own fucking living room, was Eddie Kaspbrak, his best friend slash roommate slash love of his life, doing  _ yoga _ . He knew Eddie did yoga. That man did just about everything to keep in shape, and even got Richie to pick up a few healthy habits. But Eddie always did his yoga in fancy studios with the young moms of California that were desperate to get their pre-baby bodies back. The most Richie had ever seen was a fleeting glance of Eddie in some yoga pants on his way out the door. And most of the time he tried to avoid even that.

But here Eddie was, in the center of the living room wearing nothing but exercise leggings and a tank top, pretzeling his body around and basically begging Richie's dick to get hard.

Richie didn't realize how long he'd been standing in the front hallway doing nothing but staring until Eddie turned towards him. 

"Hey, Rich, how was brunch?"

Richie forced his brain out of the gutter and walked further into the living room. "It went really well, actually. I think they want me for the role." Richie's eyes were darting around the room, trying not to zero on Eddie's ass in the air while he does a very impressive downward dog. It should be a crime for Eddie to be this flexible.

"That's awesome! What was the role again?"

"Some lead guy in a rom com. I don't really know much about the role, but my agent said it would be a good thing for me, so I did my best to come across as a likeable person this morning."

"That's good acting practice for you." Eddie's quiet for a second while he repositions himself, before adding, "Damn, a rom com. Looks like you're gonna have to up the sex appeal."

"Ouch, Eds. I thought we already established that my sex appeal was through the roof."

He watches as Eddie basically turns into an inch worm on the floor, except he just stays with his ass up in the air while his chest stays on the ground. It looks a lot like if Richie was holding his hips and fucking him from behind, and he really needs to get out of there right now. 

He can't get himself to move, though; maybe he's just a glutton for punishment. Instead, he asks, "What's that pose called? I don't think I've ever seen it before."

"Puppy dog pose. You basically want to raise your hips up so they're stacked above your knees, and keep your chest on the ground with your hands out in front of you."

"Huh. Interesting." It's quiet for a moment, before Richie decides he really does need to get out of there if he doesn't want Eddie to think he's a pervert who gets off on watching his friend do yoga. And, yeah, that's exactly what he is, but Eddie doesn't need to know that. "Alright, well. I've gotta go!"

As soon as Richie has his bedroom door shut, he's unbuttoning his pants. He doesn't have the patience to fish out his lube, so he just spits in his hand and starts stripping his cock at record speed, because holy fuck. Eddie was right there and he was fucking irresistable and Richie's gonna need to find a new way to cope because he's pretty sure if he keeps jerking off this much he's going to go blind. He comes in record time, which is what always happens when Eddie does something new and sexy. 

Laying back on his bed, Richie scrubs his clean hand over his face. He doesn't know what he's going to do. He figures he should probably talk to someone about it. Maybe Eddie. But he's not really interested in revealing  _ to Eddie _ that Eddie just existing is torture for his dick, so instead he decides to call Stan. He already knows Stan doesn't want to hear about this, but he needs his frank attitude. Stan can whip him into shape. Probably.

After cleaning himself up, he grabs his phone and clicks on Stan's contact to make a call. It's around 4:00 on the East Coast right now, so he figures Stan will probably be available. Sure enough, he answers after a few rings.

"What?"

"Wow, Staniel. I expected a much more positive greeting from my best friend," Richie says through a grin.

"I will give you a positive greeting if you can honestly tell me that you haven't called because of something with Eddie."

"Alright, alright. You've got me there."

"Jesus Christ, aren't you guys both 40 year old men? Can you not just have a conversation? You're worse than Bill and Mike were. At least they finally fucking said something to each other."

"Are you allowed to say Jesus Christ?" Richie asks, trying to deflect even though he called expressly to get this attitude from Stan.

"I'm allowed to say whatever I want. Now what's the issue this time?"

"I swear to God, it seems like everywhere I look, Eddie has his ass out. First it was these ridiculous running shorts, then he was shaking his ass in the air on the couch, and earlier this week he literally walked into the living room half naked to show me a hole in his boxers that was in a  _ very  _ inappropriate place. I feel like he's fucking with me. Like, one or two of these things can be a coincidence. But it would take me a solid ten minutes to tell you about all the different situations I've encountered over the past three weeks. My dick is so close to falling off."

"First of all, ew. I don't want to know anything about your dick ever. Second of all, I doubt it's a coincidence. See,  _ neither _ of you know how to communicate. I'd be willing to bet my best binoculars that he's  _ trying  _ to get you to look at his ass. I can't promise anything, because I don't really understand this whole you guys not talking about anything thing. But that's what I'd guess." Stan sounds tired, almost like he's dealing with a child. Which, Richie guesses, he kind of is. What is Richie if not an overgrown child persevering?

"Stan, you just might be right. But the problem is to discover if it is on purpose, I would probably have to say something, and I'm not interested in being vulnerable in any way, shape, or form. So if I have to die a little more every day because Eddie's got his ass out, then so be it. That's an honorable way to go."

"Why do you even call if you're not going to listen to what I have to say?"

"Because I just want to hear someone else say it's probably not a coincidence. But we all know I'm not going to do anything about it. I've had a crush on Eddie since I was like seven years old and have literally never said a word. Why would this time be any different?"

"Because this time Eddie wants you to fuck him," Stan deadpans.

"Maybe so. Anyway, how's Patty?"

"I'm not talking to you about my marriage until you learn how to have an adult relationship that involves mutual communication. Goodbye."

And with that, Stan hangs up. Richie stares at the ceiling hopelessly. Stan is probably right, it's probably not a coincidence. But the concept of having to figure out if it's a coincidence or not is far too risky. So instead he will lay here in misery while his extremely hot crush does yoga down the hall.

* * *

Eventually, Richie drags himself out of his room again, but not until he smells dinner cooking and realizes he's fucking starving. He's been sitting in his room pathetically for much longer than he realized.

When he walks into the kitchen, Eddie is cooking something on the stove.

"What'cha cookin', Eds?" Richie asks while Eddie is stirring something into a big pot. Richie plants himself at the kitchen table, scrolling through twitter and trying not to watch Eddie cook. He just looks  _ so good  _ when he cooks. 

"Alright, look. You need to not say exactly what I know you're going to say, but I'm making spaghetti."

Richie's entire face lights up. Eddie rarely makes spaghetti, for obvious reasons, which is a real shame because he actually has a really good recipe. The last time he made it, though, Richie spent the entire night making jokes about Eddie being the main course and how he would be happy to suck Eddie into his mouth instead of the noodles. In the end, Eddie told him he was never going to cook spaghetti again.

"Aw, Spagheds. If you wanted me to devour you, all you had to do was ask," Richie said with a grin and a wink, and Eddie flicked him off without removing his eyes from the pot. Richie watched as Eddie tried to reach a spice that was too high up on the shelf. He could easily get up and help, but he wanted to make Eddie ask. It's much funnier that way.

"Alright, dickhead. I know you're watching this happen, so could you help me get that jar?"

"What's the magic word?"

"If you don't, there's no spaghetti for you."

"That's more than one word, but it'll do."

Richie smiles and stands up, ready to grab the jar as soon as Eddie steps away. Except Eddie doesn't step away. He stays right there. Richie debates asking him to move, but he thinks that would probably be kind of weird, so he doesn't. If they don't acknowledge whatever is happening right now, then it can't be weird. Right?

Richie regrets not asking him to move the second he leans in to grab the jar. His front is pressed up against Eddie, and he's at least semi-positive that Eddie is wiggling his ass against Richie's hips. He can't prove that, though, and he knows if he stays there too long, he's going to get caught in a very awkward situation. He wraps his hands around the jar and grabs it, stepping away from Eddie and handing the jar to him with a little too much aggression. Eddie just stares at him for a minute before going back to cooking, so Richie returns to his seat at the table and opens a text to Bev.

**Richie:** pretty sure eddie just like grinded on me right in the middle of our kitchen

**Bevvie:** Wow that would be so insane and unexpected

**Bevvie:** Just in case you can't tell, that was sarcasm

**Richie:** yeah dont worry that came across very clearly

**Richie:** but i think ur just agreeing with me bc ur my friend

**Bevvie:** I'm also Eddie's friend

**Richie:** im aware

**Richie:** WAIT what does that mean

**Bevvie:** I'm not telling

**Richie:** gtg dinner is ready

**Richie:** were having spaghetti :P

"Who was that?" Eddie asks as he sits across from Richie.

"Oh, just Bev." Richie gets up to grab a plate and pile on the pasta. After drenching his noodles in sauce, he returns to the table. Eddie, always the polite one, had waited for Richie to get his food before starting to eat. Why is that so fucking cute?

"Fuck, this spaghetti looks delicious. Oh, and I guess the food looks good, too," Richie says through a particularly large grin.

"Shut the fuck up and eat, dumbass."

Richie could almost swear he saw a little bit of a flush on Eddie's cheeks. 

They make idle conversation while eating. It's mainly just Richie finding new innuendos about the spaghetti and Eddie telling him to fuck off. It's comfortable.

"You know, I wouldn't be opposed to eating out spaghetti."

Eddie stops his fork midair and gives Richie the most fed up look he has ever seen. 

"You know, I'm sure there are lots of good restaurants around. Wait, did you think I meant-? Get your head out of the gutter, Eds! I'd never say such a thing!"

"You are unbearable."

The conversation continues, and eventually they start arguing about something mundane, and he's not exactly sure how it happens, but Richie accidentally knocks his entire glass of water over and it spills across the table and into Eddie's lap.

"Oh, fuck you, man!" Eddie says, standing up quickly. He's got a wet patch on the front of his pants, and Richie has to  _ really  _ focus on the situation at hand so that he doesn't focus on the fact that  _ Eddie has a wet patch on the front of his fucking pants _ .

"Shit, I'm sorry, Eds. I really am. I didn't mean to do that," Richie says genuinely. He likes bickering with Eddie, but he never wants to actually upset him. 

"Whatever, it's fine," Eddie says. Richie thinks he's going to leave the room and change, but then Eddie just unbuttons his pants. Right there. In the kitchen. And then he takes them off, and now Eddie is standing in damp briefs in their kitchen, and Richie is trying to look anywhere but at his dick. It's a very hard ( _ hah _ ) task.

"These aren't too soaked, right? LIke I think I can just finish dinner like this," Eddie says, still standing.

Richie swallows and struggles to croak out a, "Yeah, they seem fine," before redirecting his attention to his food. He's suddenly very glad he's not the one with wet pants, because that would make his rising (again,  _ hah _ ) problem  _ very  _ evident. 

He's desperately trying to not look up at Eddie, afraid that every thought in his head is written across his face. He's a grown man, he should be able to control himself when his roommate is sitting across him in boxer briefs.

They finish dinner, but Richie really struggles to stay in the conversation. He can barely bring himself to look up from his food. Even though Eddie is sitting down now, Richie still  _ knows  _ he's not wearing pants. He's sitting right there, not wearing pants. Eddie Kaspbrak is pantsless and across from him at this present moment. It's a very difficult fact for him to process.

Eventually, they finish dinner. Richie offers to do the dishes so that he can have something to distract him, and so that maybe Eddie will go put on pants or even just go to his room altogether. 

Richie stands at the sink scrubbing the meat sauce from his plate and replaying the incidents of the day. He's pretty sure Eddie is just playing one big gay prank on him. Like, he's probably just trying to see how far he can take it before Richie says something. Or maybe he doesn't even realize it. Maybe he's just that comfortable around Richie now, which is good. It's really good, and Richie hopes that's the case, because he'd love for Eddie to be able to be that comfortable around someone. He's spent so much of his life all pent up, and it's unfair of Richie to react this way when Eddie is finally getting a taste of freedom. 

So he decides that's what's up and then pushes it from his head. He puts the last plate on the drying rack and heads into the living room. He can see the back of Eddie's head above the edge of the couch, so he walks over to join him. They'll probably find some dumb TV show to yell at for the night.

Except he rounds the corner of the couch and finds Eddie sitting there, still in just his briefs. His brain does a reboot, and then he says, "Aren't you going to. Like. Put on pants? Or I guess you don't have to! This is your house, too. Nevermind, nevermind."

"Oh, I guess I can. I hadn't really thought of it."

"No! No, you're fine." Richie is desperate to change the subject that he so stupidly brought up, so he adds, "What do you want to watch?"

"Anything's fine," Eddie says, making a dismissive motion with his hand. Richie decides on  _ Chopped _ because at least that way he can get fully engrossed in the on screen tension and not whatever weird (probably unrequited) tension is going on in this room right now.

They're both watching the episode and making little comments at different things, and Richie basically forgets that Eddie is half naked right next to him. But then Eddie stands up to go get something, and for some unknown reason he squeezes himself in front of Richie instead of just going the other way. Eddie's ass is fully in his face for a solid six seconds, which is way too much considering he's not allowed to lean forward and just, like, bite it.

Eddie comes back a few moments later with two popsicles, and when did they get popsicles? He hands one over to Richie (cherry, which is Richie's favorite and he tries not to fall in love about the fact that Eddie remembered) and then sits back down. And now everything is fine and good, except Eddie is sucking a very dick shaped food right next to him. Richie can barely focus on his own popsicle because he's focusing so hard on  _ not focusing  _ on Eddie. Before he realizes it, his popsicle is starting to melt down his hand, and a particularly large drip drops into his lap. It lands right next to his zipper, and as soon as it does, he says, "Oh, shit."

Eddie looks over and sees what's up and immediately snaps into action. He's off the couch and back in five seconds flat, this time with a damp towel.

"We don't want it to stain. These are some of your nicer jeans." 

Eddie leans over him and starts rubbing at the stain, and Richie is pretty sure his head is just going to fall right off his shoulders. He's willing his dick to not get hard, but he's only so strong, and Eddie's hands are  _ right fucking there _ , and it is all becoming too much.

"I, uh, I can get it, Eds! Don't worry about it, it's my fault anyway," Richie says, trying to gently nudge Eddie away before he loses all of his self control and goes from flaccid to erect in record time.

"Okay, you better go ahead and take them off. We can throw them in the wash, just give them to me real quick."

Is he asking Richie to take off his pants in their living room? He can't be. What is happening right now?

"Oh, I mean, I can do it. I think I can get my own stains out."

"No you can't. You can barely separate your lights and darks."

"The detergent is stronger now! You don't have to do that anymore!"

"No, it's- not the point right now, just take them off real quick," Eddie insists, and Richie really doesn't feel like arguing anymore, so he takes them off and hands them over. Eddie stands up to do what Richie assumes is throw his jeans in the washing machine, but instead he stops right in front of Richie and gets down on his knees. He moves his head very close to Richie's dick and starts inspecting the fabric there.

"Uh, Eds. What'cha doin' there?" Richie asks nervously.

"Just making sure it didn't soak through the jeans onto your boxers," Eddie answers casually, as if it is perfectly normal to get down on your knees in front of your half naked roommate.

"Even if it did, I can just throw these out. They're not that nice."

Eddie hums and starts to run his fingers across the fabric, and Richie jumps back like he's been shocked.

"Okay, woah. Eddie, what's up?"

"What? I told you I was just making sure it didn't get on your boxers." Eddie doesn't even bother standing up. He just looks up at Richie in an intoxicating way.

"Are you sure? Because you've had your ass out all night at this point and now you're on your knees in front of me and I am, uh. I'm very confused."

"Do you not want to fuck me?" Eddie asks point blank, sounding somewhere between annoyed and hurt.

Richie chokes on his own spit. "I'm sorry,  _ what? _ "

"Do you not want to fuck me? I have been trying for  _ weeks _ , man. I don't know how much more obvious I can be."

"I - I think I am missing something very important here. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how I just want you to bend me over any flat surface in this house and rail me. I've done everything short of taking off my pants bending over in front of you, but I still think I've been pretty clear about what I want." 

Richie opens and closes his mouth a few times before he's able to find something to say. "I was not aware of that. But, uh. Yes. I do. Want to fuck you, that is. Yeah."

"Well then why didn't you say something?"

"I thought I was going insane! I didn't know you were doing all that shit on purpose!"

"Oh my god, you are so fucking stupid. Dude, the other day I asked you to look at the hole in the back of my boxers. And you know what? I ripped that fucking hole myself."

"You  _ what? _ Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to fuck. I would have done it."

"Because! I didn't want to come on too strong!"

"Dude, you're literally on your knees right now. You asked me to take off my pants. Your hand was just centimeters from my dick."

"Yeah, but I had plausible deniability!" Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms out in exasperation.

"Who the fuck cares about plausible deniability!"

"I do! I didn't want to freak you out or anything. It's not my fault you're an idiot!"

"I am not an- Wait. Why are we arguing right now?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty sure I already told you I want you to fuck me," Eddie answers matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, you sure did. Which, by the way, that was probably the best moment of my life."

"Can I suck your dick?"

"Can you -  _ of course _ you can suck my dick. You can suck my dick literally whenever you want. You name the time and the place, and I'll take off my pants." 

"You are so fucking stupid. I cannot believe I'm in love with you." Eddie freezes like he hadn't meant to say that.

"Wait, you're. You're in love with me?"

"Maybe." Eddie looks down at the floor when he answers.

"Can you come up here, because if you're really in love with me, I'd like to kiss you right fucking now."

Richie helps Eddie up, and the second Eddie is vertical, Richie crashes their lips together. He cups Eddie's face in his hands, tender and wholesome in a way that doesn't normally happen seconds after someone was about to suck your dick. Eddie melts into Richie's hands and parts his mouth, letting Richie slide his tongue behind his teeth. 

Eventually they have to come up for air. Richie stares down at the man in front of him, taking in his pink lips and his blown pupils, and he remembers he still has something to say.

"By the way, I'm in love with you too. Just in case that wasn't clear."

"Yeah, I got that," Eddie said through a laugh. Richie's heart was so full.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Eds. I fully intend to fuck you on every surface in this house, but I'd really like to take you to my bedroom for the first time. If that's cool with you."

"Richie," Eddie breathes. "Take me to bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> richie and eddie are both gay and stupid and horny and in love
> 
> i hope u enjoyed <3 sexy times next chapter hehe
> 
> comments and kudos boost my ego and make me feel invincible!!!


	3. maybe we can kiss in a gay way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie arches into the sensation, letting out a noise that Richie wants to hear forever. He'd set it as his ringtone if Eddie would let him. 

Richie is quick to wrap his arms under Eddie's thighs and lift him up, drawing a frustrated huff from Eddie.

"I hate that you're strong enough to lift me up so casually. In reality, I fucking love it, but it makes me so angry."

"It's not my fault you're so small and I'm so big and strong and manly."

"I'm average sized, dickhead."

Richie grins back at Eddie as he walks to his bedroom, where he drops Eddie on the bed as gently as possible. He stands back and looks at Eddie, sprawled out on his bed with a flush creeping down his neck. He looks so fucking good, and Richie wants to tear him apart and put him back together. 

"You're so hot, Eddie. What the fuck?" Richie's tone is incredulous as he dives back in to kiss him again. Eddie's hands go to his shoulders, groping around at his upper arms, before they eventually find their way to the hem of his shirt. He tries to start tugging Richie's shirt off, so Richie reluctantly pulls back to pull it over his head. He throws it somewhere in the room, and he doesn't care in the slightest about where it lands.

"God, Rich. You're so big, oh my god."

Richie leans back in to pepper kisses on Eddie's neck, slipping his hand under Eddie's shirt to tweak at his nipples. Eddie arches into the sensation, letting out a noise that Richie wants to hear forever. He'd set it as his ringtone if Eddie would let him. 

Richie lets his hands roam, touching every inch of skin he can. He's wanted this for so long. He attaches his lips to Eddie's again as his hand slides down to cup Eddie through his briefs. They're still damp, though this time Richie suspects it's for a different reason.

He's leaking into his own boxers, too, and he grinds his hips down against Eddie's to get some relief. 

"Fuck, Richie, let me suck your dick. I wanna suck your dick."

Richie is amazed that he doesn't come just from hearing that; Eddie Kaspbrak is underneath him begging to suck his dick. This can't be real. 

Richie lets Eddie crawl out from under him, and he lays flat on the bed in his place. Eddie brings his lips to Richie's collarbones, sucking marks into the skin there that are going to be a bitch to hide come Monday. He couldn't care less right now, though. 

Eddie keeps trailing kisses down Richie's chest and torso, stopping at his boxers. He looks back up at Richie, checking in one last time, and when Richie nods frantically, Eddie drags his tongue across the front of Richie's boxers.

Richie doesn't know how he's going to last, considering how good this already feels and it's all through a layer of fabric. But then Eddie's got his fingers under the waistband of Richie's boxers and he's dragging them down, and every single thought that isn't  _ Eddie is going to put his mouth on my dick _ leaves Richie's head.

Eddie places a tentative kiss on the head of Richie's cock, looking up at him through his eyelashes innocently before opening his lips to take Richie into his mouth. Richie fights to keep his hips from snapping forward, not wanting to choke Eddie. 

Eddie sucks him further into his mouth, going down until Richie feels his cock nudge the back of Eddie's throat. Eddie relaxes his throat and lowers his head more until his nose is pressed against Richie's pelvis. Richie feels his cock twitch inside Eddie's mouth, and he threads his fingers into Eddie's hair to pull him off.

"Eds, as much as I love this, it's going to be over far too fast if you keep going."

Eddie looks obscene where he sits between Richie's legs. His lips are bruised and slick, his hair's a mess, and his pupils are blown. And when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice sounds wrecked. "Alright, but only because I really want you to fuck me tonight. We'll have plenty of opportunities for you to come down my throat in the future."

_ The future.  _ Holy shit. 

Richie pulls Eddie back up to him and kisses him again, not even caring that he can taste himself on Eddie's tongue. He slides his hands down Eddie's sides, wrapping them around to cup his ass and squeeze. Eddie's hip cant forward into Richie's, and the friction draws moans from both of their mouths. 

"I gotta - fuck, I gotta get the lube, Eds." 

Eddie slides off of Richie's lap so that Richie can dig through his nightstand drawer for lube and a condom. When Richie turns back around, Eddie's got a hand wrapped around his own dick and is stroking himself lazily. And he's pretty sure he's already said this, but this is the best moment of Richie's entire life.

Eddie leans back on the bed as Richie pops open the lube, coating his fingers and warming it up.

"Have you ever done this before?" Richie asks. He's not sure what to expect, but he wants to go at the right pace for Eddie. He wants this to be good for Eddie.

"To myself, yeah. But, uh. Never with someone else."

"I've got you, baby. Just tell me if it gets to be too much." Richie circles Eddie's rim with his pointer finger before sliding it in to the first knuckle. 

" _ Fuck _ . I-I always wanted it to be you. My first," Eddie says through pants. Richie's heart explodes.

"I love you, Eddie. So much." Richie leans in for a kiss as he starts thrusting his finger slowly, and he swallows the whimpers that come from Eddie's mouth at the movement.

"Next time I'm going to take my time with you, really open you up. Get you nice and wet and loose with my tongue. Make you beg," Richie says into Eddie's ear, and all Eddie can do is whimper and nod. He's putty in Richie's hands. 

It's not long until Richie's got three fingers in Eddie while Eddie writhes and moans on the bed. Barely able to speak through his heavy breathing, Eddie utters, "I'm ready, Rich, fuck me."

"Are you sure, baby? I don't want to hurt you."

Grinding down on Richie's fingers to punctuate his point, Eddie says, "Yes, fuck. I need you."

Richie gently pulls his fingers out, using his clean hand to get a grip on the condom and rip it open before rolling it onto himself. He lines his cock up with Eddie's hole, and Eddie takes a deep breath before nodding at him to push in. Richie pushes in slowly, gently, but it's still so much all at once. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, and Richie stops immediately.

"Eds, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Keep going. 'S just. A lot."

Richie continues pushing forward, going as slow as he possibly can. After what seems like forever, his hips are pressed flush against Eddie's. 

"Just-just give me a moment," Eddie breathes out. Richie cranes his neck forward to kiss Eddie gently, pressing their foreheads together.

"Okay, you can move. Just go slow for now."

Richie gently starts grinding his hips into Eddie, trying to give him more time to adjust before he starts actually thrusting.

"You're so tight, babe, fuck. So good."

"C'mon, Rich. More," Eddie urges, so Richie pulls out a little before pressing his hips forward again. He starts to pick up pace as he goes, going faster as Eddie seems to loosen up more. It's not long before his hips are snapping forward on every thrust, before he's pulling his cock almost entirely out each time.

"Fuck, I'm so full," Eddie moans. There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from how intense the pleasure is. If Eddie was slightly more cognizant of his actions, he would be embarrassed at the desperate whines he's letting out with every thrust.

"You feel so fucking good, Eds. Wanna do this forever," Richie grunts out, pulling Eddie's hips down slightly to change the angle. With the new position, he's able to slam into Eddie's prostate on nearly every thrust, and he watches as Eddie's eyes roll back in his head.

"I love you," Eddie whimpers, and Richie leans forward to kiss him deeply. The kiss is slow and intentional and intimate. When they pull back for air, Richie looks into Eddie's eyes with nothing but love and can't help but think about how lucky he is right now.

"I wanna make you feel this good forever, Eds."

"Then fuck me harder," Eddie says, always the smartass. Richie obliges, snapping his hips forward with more force than before, and watching Eddie come apart before his eyes. Eddie can only let out little  _ uh uh uhs  _ as Richie pounds into him, the sound of skin slapping filling the room obscenely. 

"I-I'm close,  _ fuck _ , Richie," Eddie whines, and Richie brings his hand in between them to wrap it around Eddie's dick, trying his best to keep his rhythm up as he feels his own orgasm approaching. 

It only takes a few strokes for Eddie to arch his back off the bed, cum spurting from his cock and painting his stomach as Richie fucks him through it. Richie's thrusts get erratic then, and he buries himself as deep as he can while he fills the condom, letting out a long groan. 

When he's caught his breath, Richie slowly pulls out. His legs feel like noodles, but he still manages to get up and step into the bathroom across the hall to grab a damp towel. While he's at it, he ties off the condom and tosses it in the bathroom trash.

He joins Eddie back in the bedroom, using the towel he grabbed to gently clean Eddie's stomach. He doesn't feel like leaving him again, though, so he just tosses it to the side and decides to deal with it later. He'd much rather curl up next to Eddie.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of each other's breathing. Richie thinks back to the events of the evening, and he can't help himself when he starts chuckling.

"Mmmm, what the fuck are you laughing at, dickhead?" Eddie asks, voice soft and relaxed where his head is tucked into Richie's chest.

"I can't believe you were trying to get me to fuck you for three weeks and I didn't know."

"Yeah, me neither, idiot. I've never been so slutty in my life."

"I like slutty Eds, though. I look forward to seeing more of him and actually knowing what's going on this time."

"As if I'm ever gonna have to work to get you to fuck me again. I'm willing to bet you're not gonna be able to keep your hands off of me," Eddie laughs out.

"Fair point. Because the only way I'm not always going to be touching you is if you cut off my hands. Even then, I'll just find a new way."

"Stop talking about cutting your hands off when you just fucked me into next week."

"I wish we weren't 40 because I want to fuck you again already." Richie admits and lets out a little laugh.

"Eh, we've got time. Even if we only fuck once a day, we've got a lot of days ahead of us."

"Once a day, huh? That's a lot." Richie grins.

"Plus, we've gotta christen every room in this house," Eddie adds.

"Oh my god. I just realized, we can have pool sex."

"You are insatiable," Eddie scoffs, but he nuzzles further into Richie's shoulder at the same time, so his statement is undercut.

"So what was your next slutty plan if the whole stripping in the kitchen thing didn't work?"

"Hm, I don't know. I took it day by day. I didn't  _ plan  _ on stripping in the kitchen. You're the one who spilled the water, I just took advantage of the situation."

"I have never been happier to have the physique and coordination of gumby."

A comfortable silence falls over them after that. It's nice, just laying there together. Richie has to break that eventually, though. Just because of who he is in general as a person.

"Oh, by the way, just because I fucked you doesn't mean you have to stop finding ways to get me to look at your ass. I am happy to let you continue with your passion project. I can even pretend to not notice if you want."

"I'm pretty sure you're going to look at my ass anyway," Eddie says flatly.

"You're right. In fact, I think we should get professional photos of your ass done so we can hang them in every room of the house. It's very important for the interior decoration of our home to be classy."

"If you're this obsessed with my ass, how did it take three fucking weeks for you to snap and ask why I was being a whore?"

"Because as much as I love you and your ass, I am also filled with the fear of vulnerability," Richie says, sounding a little more genuine than he meant to.

"Okay, I guess I'll excuse your inaction, then."

"I think I'm going to get all of our friends ass-themed gifts to celebrate this occasion. A puzzle of your ass for Stan, a book of poetry I will write about your ass for Bill, a building in the shape of your ass for Ben..."

"If you gave Stan a puzzle of my ass, he would get on a plane and fly out here so he could rip you limb from limb."

"You're probably right. I'm still going to write that book of poetry, though. And this whole situation is gonna be fantastic material for my next set."

"Oh my god. I didn't even think about that. I should have never done this," Eddie groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"It's too late, Eds. My next tour is gonna be called  _ My Boyfriend's Ass _ and it's gonna be revolutionary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's all she wrote!!!! i hope u guys enjoyed this horny adventure!!
> 
> thank u so much for reading!! comments and kudos make me very happy!!! i love knowing what u guys think!!


End file.
